


Hemophobia

by CactusCowboy



Category: Persona 5, Persona 5 Royal
Genre: Akira takes care of Goro's injuries, Angst with a Happy Ending, Beta Read, Fluff and Angst, Goro doesn't know how to understand his feelings, Goro has a fear of blood, Goro has hemophobia, Goro thinks Akira is pretty, M/M, Mentions of Suicide, Minor Character Death, Minor character suicide, Mutual Pining, P5R Spoilers, PTSD, Protag goes by Akira, Sharing a Bed, Soft Kisses, ansgt with eventual fluff, childhood truama, graphic depictions of blood, graphic depictions of suicide, in which goro witnesses his mom's suicide and now has a terrible fear of blood, p5 spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 07:16:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27179795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CactusCowboy/pseuds/CactusCowboy
Summary: hemophobia // the term for the irrational fear of blood .Goro is afraid of blood.When he was younger he wasn't. He never felt squeamish when he spotted the crimson substance as a child. Whenever he scraped his knees bloody he would patiently wait as his mom hurriedly patched him up with whatever medical supplies they had left in the house. He would watch as the blood would form from the small abrasions on the skin of his knee. His eyes, matching the deep red of the liquid, would flicker with curiosity as the drops of blood would connect until they became too heavy, and dripped down his leg.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 6
Kudos: 149





	Hemophobia

**Author's Note:**

> First I would like to say that the fact that Goro has hemophobia is a characterization that is very personal to me. If you disagree with the idea or headcannon that he has a fear of blood, that's totally cool. Just keep it to yourself or click off the fic.
> 
> I would like to say thank you to @kristen-applebees on Tumblr for beta reading this fic for me! It's taken me a few weeks to finish this story up, so I really appreciate her input and commitment for reading for me! I don't think I would have finished this if I didn't have her!
> 
> Also! This fic is a very long read for being one chapter, so I would recommend marking it for later if you don't have a lot of reading time! I wanted to split it into chapters, but with the flow of the story it would have been chopped up oddly. Anyways, please enjoy!

Goro is afraid of blood. 

When he was younger he wasn't. He never felt squeamish when he spotted the crimson substance as a child. Whenever he scraped his knees bloody he would patiently wait as his mom hurriedly patched him up with whatever medical supplies they had left in the house. He would watch as the blood would form from the small abrasions on the skin of his knee. His eyes, matching the deep red of the liquid, would flicker with curiosity as the drops of blood would connect until they became too heavy, and dripped down his leg.

"Goro," his mother's voice came out in a worried tone as she rushed back into the room with a box of bandaids, a damp towel, and a brown bottle of peroxide in her hands. Goro's head snapped up, and his mother looked at him with a pouted lip and furrowed brows. "Oh Goro you poor thing, you got your knee really bad." 

She stepped over to where he sat sideways on one of the chairs at the kitchen table, and kneeled down in front of him so that she was at his eye level. She set her supplies down on the floor in front of her and looked up at the boy with a gentle smile. 

"You're such a brave boy Goro. Not a tear shed." She muttered, her hand reaching up to brush one of the long stray locks of light brown hair out of his eyes and tuck it behind his ear. She looks down at the wound on his knee and sucks in a hiss as if she's imagining how painful it must feel. "Yeah that's pretty bad..." she mumbles, but her eyes flicker back up to his and a reassuring smile comes to her lips, "But you'll be fine. Mommy will take care of you." And she would.

Goro would watch as she wiped up the dripping blood from his knee, observe the way the red bleeds into the white cloth until it stains. His mother was always so gentle with him. He had heard the way she would treat other men in her life. When she spoke to them her voice was loud and raging, but when she spoke to Goro--her Goro, her voice was always soft and welcoming. When she placed a few drops of the peroxide onto his scrape, he sucked in a sharp breath of pain. The solution bubbling the red white as it cleaned the wound. She would gently hold his cheek and say,

"I know it hurts, but I promise it will be better soon." He believed her. Soon enough he would have his knee patched up with a sailor moon themed jumbo bandaid and he would be sent back to play outside with a kiss on the forehead.

When he was younger he was never afraid of blood, because he knew blood was temporary. It would sting for a moment, and then his mother would take it all away with her gentle voice and a kiss on his temple. 

It was a few years later into his childhood when this fear became known to him. It was a particular day. The day his mother died.

He remembered that day he was excited to get home from school. He was bounding down the street, skipping across each square of cement on the sidewalk. In art class he had completed a painting he was rather proud of, and in his seven year old mind, he viewed it as a masterpiece. It was a painting of him and his mom standing together holding hands in front of their house. They both had large smiles on their faces, and Goro made sure to capture as many details as he could when he painted his mother. He even made sure to paint her in her favorite deep blue dress that she would wear out all the time. 

When he got home, he rushed to get inside. He grabbed the house key his mom had expertly hidden underneath the front mat that led into the tiny apartment. Sometimes she would be busy or not be home at all, so she made sure Goro had a way to enter the house when that was the case. He fumbled with the key as he tried to get it into the lock as fast as he could, struggling with it for a moment before it finally clicked open. He pushed the door agape and took a few seconds to put the key back underneath the mat before he came bursting into their small home. 

"Mommy, mommy! I made something in art class for you!" Goro's voice echoed through the empty room, and Goro frowned when he realized he was alone. He took a few seconds to walk around and observe each room, of which most of them weren't even connected by doors, but instead open arches between them. The house was tiny, so in mere seconds he had ran into each room and cleared it. The living room, the kitchen, his room, and mom's room, all empty. When he rushed over to the bathroom door to open and check if she was in there, he realized as he turned the knob that it was locked. He brightened up at that, assuming she was inside. He knocked on the door over and over again.

"Mommy!! Are you in there?" He called, but no answer came back. He frowned. Why would the door be locked if no one was inside? Eventually he just came to the conclusion that it was locked for a reason, and he let it be. It wasn't rare for his mom to not be home at all until the late hours of the night. During the say she was working as a waitress in the nearby Cafe, and during the night she worked as well. She never exactly told him where she worked at night, but when he was older he made his assumptions. Especially with the influx of men into their house in the late hours of the night. Goro never blamed her for it though. He understood she needed the money to support them and he was sure it was difficult for her to do.

He spent the rest of the evening waiting for her to return home. He finished what little homework he had, then spent most of his time coloring in different shapes and animals in the coloring books his mom always bought him. As the noonday sun dipped behind the horizon and the street outside was covered in darkness, he had managed to finish one of his coloring books. A deep seed of anxiety was planted into his chest as he began to worry. He moved his drawing station from the small desk in his room onto the kitchen table after a while. He wanted to be the first thing she saw when she walked through the door. He didn't want to miss her when she did. 

He watched the digital clock that was set on the oven in the kitchen, as it counted down the minutes and hours he waited. His eyelids began to feel heavy after the clock read 10:41. A deep feeling of tiredness filling his body and causing him to laze back in his chair. Even though he was tired, he wouldn't let sleep overtake his senses. The only thing he wanted was for his mommy to come home.

As he sat there he began to notice an awful smell begin to aerate around the house. It was a familiar smell, and terribly unpleasant. He recognized it as the scent he would sometimes smell when passing by roadkill on his way home from school. It was putrid and filled his senses until his face was grimacing. Eventually he couldn't take the offensive smell attacking his nostrils, so he decided to try and find where it was coming from. He stood from his spot at the table and began to walk around the house, sniffing around like a police mutt as he tried to find the origins of the odor. 

When he came across the locked bathroom door, he came to the shocking realization that that was where the smell was coming from. Immediately he felt a shiver creep up his spine. He felt as if something was terribly wrong and he just couldn't tell what. It was a horrid feeling of unknowing. He needed to know what was inside the bathroom and why it was locked up. 

He remembered there was a drawer his mom had in her room where she held the keys to all of the doors in the house, and he quickly made his way to her room. He ignored the messy piles of clothes that were scattered around the room, and he quickly went to the drawer of her vanity. It only took him a few seconds before he spotted the metal loop that held about five different keys on it, each one labeled with a piece of tape that has the name of which door it opens written in sharpie. It took him a few moments of fumbling before he found the key that was labeled '湢'. He rushed back to the bathroom, impatient to find out what that God awful smell was. He shoved the key in the lock and turned. He didn't know that what he would see would set his life in a, seemingly eternal, downward spiral.

When he opened the door, he was immediately hit with a wave of that same rotting smell from before but with much more intensity. The scene that was laid before him was horrific.

He saw his mother, fully clothed and sat inside of their, previously, ivory-white bathtub. Her body was slouched down into the water that was filled almost to the brim. Her sleeves were pulled up all the way to her elbows. 

The thing he remembered the most was the blood. The bathwater was completely dyed a deep crimson red. The blood seemed to stem from deep cuts on her wrists that were still lapping in the water. The sides of the bathtub had skid marks of red covering them, and a large kitchen knife sat at the edge of the tub equally covered in the substance. 

His sweet mother who was once full of life and love for him, was now pale skinned and hollow. Her eyes were still open and staring down into the tub, but they were dulled out and glossed over. Her body was still, and not a breath left or entered her. Goro didn't know how long he had been standing there in the doorway just staring in horror at the scene in front of him. It took him a few moment to process what he was seeing. He couldn't bare it. His breath quickened and his eyes filled with burning hot tears that fell down his cheeks just as quickly as they appeared. He ran as soon as his body caught up with his mind, away from the bathroom as fast as he could. He didn't know that his mother was dead. All he knew was that she needed help, that he needed help.

He ran to his neighbors house for that help, and the rest was history. 

Ever since that day he had been afraid of blood. The sight of it, the smell of it, hell, even the taste of it caused a sick feeling to fall over him so intense that he couldn't handle it. 

He was lucky that when he killed someone in the metaverse, they never bled. Black ooze wasn't the same as crimson blood, though the sight did still make him feel slightly squeamish. 

The fact that he had such a fear would be confusing to some. Most notably the phantom thieves, and even more so their leader. A killer having a fear of blood just sounded straight up fictional. Especially after his attempt to kill Akira. 

He remembered that day just as clearly as he did the day of his mother's suicide. He never would be able to admit it, but it was a momentous occasion for more than one reason. His first real kill, his last step towards killing his bastard of a father, and the day he would have to face his fear of blood. 

If he was being honest he would have to blame the fact that he didn't gag at the sight of Akira's blood spilling down his forehead on the adrenaline. It numbed him down so much, the rush of knowing what he wanted and strived for for so long was almost in his grasp. The feeling of disgust didn't settle in until much much later in the evening, when he arrived back at his apartment. 

He remembered standing before the old cracked mirror in his tiny bathroom, meant to suit his tiny apartment. Though being a detective prince made him famous, fame didn't mean he was getting money in his pockets. He was an orphaned student after all, buying a luxurious apartment wasn't in the question. He always made sure that he was never followed by any fans when he came home, knowing damn well that a determined fan or reporter could tear down his old broken door in mere seconds.

Goro stared into his reflection and didn't know what to feel. Pride? Accomplishment? Maybe some percentage of the manic happiness he felt before? But instead he just felt a deep emptiness that crawled into the cavity of his chest. The only thing he could really feel was a pounding ache in his head that wouldn't go away. He gripped the edges of the sink as he stared into his reflection. He looked just as bad as he felt. Beads of sweat were formed on his forehead and caused stray hairs to stick to his hairline. His skin was pale, paler than usual, looking almost sickly. He felt sick.

He couldn't begin to understand why this feeling was coming over him now. A feeling of disgust, of regret. He squeezed his eyes shut and saw red. Crimson. Trickling down pale skin, past dark raven locks and gray pleading eyes. His eyes shot open as soon as the image played in his head over and over again, and he almost gagged. He was shaking. He was actually shaking. 

He was so confused. So many emotions were running through him at once and each one just didn't make sense. Anger, disappointment, fearfulness... grief. He didn't understand why he felt them at all. He should feel excited, one step closer to his ultimate goal. But at what cost? The cost of the only person he ever felt he could speak freely to ever since his mother died. 

His mother... how would she feel knowing what he had done? Her bastard child who had driven her to suicide, now a vicious killer? He supposed he had been a killer ever since the first mental breakdown he caused, but it never hit him like it did now. As long as they didn't bleed, he couldn't be a murderer. But now he had Akira's blood stained onto his hands, and he knew what he was. A murderer. His mother would be so disappointed. Just another thing to add to the list of things he had done to cause her suicide. At this point this list was too long to memorize. 

He glared down at his hands and swore he could see red. Dark, deep, red liquid flowing down from his wrists, dripping down his fingertips, and into the ivory white sink, now stained. Immediately his breath hitched and sped up. The sight of the blood causing him to panic. He needed to get rid of it. He needed it off. 

He quickly turned the knob of the sink on until cold water was gushing out of the faucet. He ran his hands under the water and scrubbed them together. But it seemed, no matter how hard he tried, the red on his hands wouldn't wash off. Hot tears began to sting at his eyes when he began to realize that he had no way to get rid of the blood on his hands. It sickened him to look at. He felt like he might vomit. It reminded him of that day, when he found his mom. Everything was so red. His hands are so red. He couldn't take it anymore. 

He squeezed his eyes shut and hung his head low, letting out a painfully dry sob. The breaths that left his lips were shaky, which matched the way his whole body weakly trembled. He was so weak. 

It took him several moments to convince himself to open his eyes again, encouraging himself to do it, thinking that he would try to wash the blood off of his hands once more. When he finally forced his eyes open, he paused when he noticed his hands were perfectly clean. His breath got caught in his throat as he brought his hands up to his face and inspected them as if they were some sort of alien object. Not a stain or mark of any kind on the pale skin of his hand. Not a single trace of the blood he once saw.

After that, he decided to go to bed. Whatever just happened, whether it be supernatural or hallucination, was not something Goro particularly fancied dealing with at the moment. He was dead tired, both from an exhausting day, and a pit that furrowed deep in his chest and just wouldn’t seem to go away. The feeling was familiar to Goro, one he had felt for years. A feeling of grief and loss. But, he couldn’t seem to understand what he had lost though. Or maybe he was just being blissfully ignorant of it. He didn’t want to think about it, or his mind would be covered with a haze of confusion and doubts. He never really enjoyed doubting himself.

He didn’t get a wink of sleep that night, or in the nights proceeding.

When Goro had discovered that Akira was still alive, despite his efforts, he would never admit that the first emotion that waved over him was relief. Nightmares plagues his mind most nights. Ones filled with blood and regrets, his mother’s dead corpse in a bathtub and Akira’s lifeless body on an interrogation room table. White stained with repulsive, sticky, red. But when he had realized that his rival was still living, still breathing, no longer _bleeding_... those nightmares ceased. 

It had taken him too long to realize why that was. His mind was too distracted with his ever going strife towards getting revenge on his father, then thoughts of redemption, and then his own death. He never stopped to realize why everything was so important to him. Why redeeming himself was so important. Why Akira was so goddamn important to him. 

It took another day he wouldn’t forget for him to understand that.

“You know, Violet, you’re typically supposed to aim when you attack something...” Goro’s voice dripped with ill-bred sarcasm. Only one enemy stood before them and, in Goro’s opinion, it was a fairly easy one to defeat. The only difficulty was that Yoshizawa-San had apparently forgotten how to aim.

“I’m sorry! I don’t know how that happened...” The red headed girl looked back at Goro with an apologetic look. He felt a bit of guilt fall over him when he noticed how worn down she looked. She was obviously tired by the way she was slouching in her stance and her movements seemed slowed. He took a quick glance at Akira and noted that he too was starting to look exhausted. Maybe after this fight they should head back home for some rest. But for now he was more focused on the fight than anything.

Because of their moment of weakness after Yoshizawa-San missed her mark, an opportunity arose for their enemy to make an attack. The large, almost elven looking, shadow made quick use of their spear. Goro had expected the enemy to attack Yoshizawa-San or Akira, since they were the weakest links at the moment. He was quite surprised when the shadow instead pointed his attack at him. He barely had time to dodge as the spear was lunged at him with vicious intent. He pulled back, but he was a second short. The spear-head dug into his shoulder and sent a searing hot pain through his body.

Thankfully, because he was already mid motion during the attack, he was able to fall back before the spear was able to wound him further. His hand quickly came to grab at the new flesh wound in his shoulder, and a hiss left his lips as he felt the pain course through him with each touch of his hand.

"Crow!" Akira's voice quickly called out with concern. But Goro couldn't focus on Akira at the moment. Instead his eyes were focused on the blood that was beginning to slowly trickle out of the newly made hole in his costume. His breath hitched as the sickening sight of the sticky liquid, and he immediately felt ill. His face paled and his eye began to twitch. He slouched forward, his hair falling past his crow's mask and blinding his vision from the area around him. He squeezed his eyes shut. He didn't want to see the blood. He didn't want to think about it anymore. Blood staining an ivory bathtub and a blank interrogation room table, now dripping down his arm and onto the white floor of the palace.

"Akechi?" Akira's voice rung in his ears. He felt dizzy. His head peeked up to look at the Phantom Thief leader after a few moments. Akira's face, though obscured by the mask, looked heavily concerned. His brows were furrowed and his deep gray eyes were filled with a genuine worry that Goro hadn't seen in a long time. Blood on ivory. He squeezed his eyes shut one more time in an attempt to maybe will his intruding thoughts away. Akira approached him, and after a few moments of no response other than Goro’s body beginning to shake, he gently grabbed onto Goro by his arm.

Goro pulled back violently, causing pain to surge through his body once more. He let out a pained yelp. He couldn't understand why he was acting like this. Why the simple sight of blood was enough to send him spiraling into the deep end. He couldn't look at Akira, memories of crimson dripping down the boys forehead caused a pain to form in his chest that hurt worse than the one in his shoulder.

"Yoshizawa-San, can you deal with the shadow?" Goro could barely process the conversation going on in front of him. 

"I've got it!" She spared a worried glance at her fallen teammate, but soon she was back focusing in on the battle. Her determination shone through everything she did. 

"Are you okay?" Akira made another attempt to grab at Goro’s arm, and this time he let his grip hold. The injury in his shoulder was still oozing out the deep red liquid, and Goro struggled to not stare into it with horror. Akira had never seen Goro react like this before. Sure, he had seen him when he made himself psychotic, but even then his actions were purposeful. This time there was no rhyme or reason to why he would be overreacting to an injury like this. He wondered if maybe the tip of the spear had some sort of poison on it that caused Goro to act strangely? They had run into a few persona's like that before, but usually it was through a spirit attack, not a physical one. "Talk to me." Akira sounded stern, but still very concerned. Goro knew it was an order and not a suggestion. He just wasn't sure how he was supposed to tell him that he had a detrimental fear of blood because of the day he murdered him. It wasn't exactly easy to explain. 

Goro tried to even out his breathing, tilting his head away from the wound to try and keep it out of his vision. "Blood..." he managed to force out, but truly that was no explanation. Akira glanced over at the wound on his shoulder and frowned prominently. 

"Here let me..." Akira didn't finish his thought, instead pushing Goro back by his uninjured shoulder and guiding him down to the floor, forcing him to sit. Goro didn't exactly enjoy being in a weak position like this, but he couldn't actually say no to Akira. Akira sat on his knees in front of him, and his hands gently moved Goro's away from the wound. He allowed him to manipulate him without much struggle. Luckily, his injury didn't seem to be that deep. Enough to make it in need of immediate treatment, but not enough to cause any permanent damage. Akira's gloved hand moved forward to push and put pressure on the gash, causing a hiss to escape Goro. The blood could barely be seen against the red cloth of his gloves.

Behind Akira, Goro could barely make out Sumire finishing off the persona that had injured him mere moments ago. Of course, the powerful persona would take a lot more to fall, but Yoshizawa-San could handle it. She was strong. Stronger than expected. Akira seemed to be making himself busy searching in the inner pockets of his jacket to try and find whatever medical supplies he can use to help. Eventually he managed to pull out some stray bandages and a small container that had a mysterious label taped to the side of it that Goro didn’t trust one bit. Akira unscrewed the lid of the weird container and inside was an odd looking gelatin-like substance. He pulled his hand away from the wound temporarily to instead dip his fingers into the substance, and when his hand began to approach his injury again Goro furiously shook his head. He may not be in the most rational state of mind, but he was not going to allow Akira to put some goddamned mystery gel on his body. When his hand continued to reach forward despite his objections, Goro’s hand quickly snapped up and grabbed Akira’s wrist. 

Akira looked up at him with innocent eyes, as if he wasn’t sure what he did wrong, but after a moment he quickly realized what the problem was.

“It’s from Dr.Takemi.” Akira insisted. Goro’s grip didn’t loosen. Akira sighed and looked into Goro’s crimson ones as if he’s trying to coax a scared puppy. “I promise you it’s safe. Just trust me.” 

Goro gave him a look of frustration, but he soon realized he was in no position to deny help, or even be distrusting of the Phantom Thief leader. Eventually he let go of Akira’s wrist. He could have sworn he spotted a triumphant smirk cross Akira’s lips. 

Now that he finally had the chance, he reached forward and gently rubbed the mystery gel on the wound. Goro let a hiss of pain escape past his gritted teeth at the feeling of it being irritated, but after a few moments the cool gel seeped into the gash and it began to numb whatever pain he was feeling. It was like cool water being poured over a burn. Goro spared a glance towards his injury, and instantly regretted it when that same ill feeling fell over him at the sight of blood mixing with the gelatinous substance. 

“A-ah...” His stomach churned, and flashes of ivory filled his mind again. He had to squeeze his eyes shut. Akira noticed this change, and used his hand that wasn’t covered in blood to gently grab Goro’s chin. He tilted his head away from his injury so that it was no longer in his field of view. Goro’s eyes opened, and instead of being greeted with bloody memories of a broken past, he saw gray eyes looking back at his. Like calming waves in the evening ocean. Not a speck of blood in sight, just dark gray water lapping against sand on a beach. 

“You’re okay.” Akira’s voice was soft and comforting. A tone Goro hadn’t heard in some time. It brought back memories, but nicer ones. Ones filled with his mother’s pink lips curled into a reassuring smile and gently tucking his hair behind his ear. “I’ll take care of you.” He said, and he believed him. 

Akira let go of his chin so he could begin to wrap up his wound with the spare gauze bandages he had. Goro didn’t know why Akira’s words calmed him so easily. The way he spoke and looked at him eased his pain and set a fire in his soul. He couldn’t bother himself to think too deeply about it though, just wanting this to be over with. 

He let out a pained hiss as Akira gave one final tug to the bandages to make sure they were tight enough on his shoulder. When he looked back over at the spot where a gash oozing blood once was, he only saw carefully placed bandages. A sigh of relief fell from his lips. He was glad he no longer had to see the repulsive crimson substance anymore. The mysterious ointment had done wonders on the injury. The searing hot pain he once felt now replaced with a mint-cool feeling of numbness. He was almost embarrassed that he didn’t trust Akira at first. The anxieties he felt before had melted away with Akira’s words. 

“I finished em’ off!” Yoshizawa-San’s voice cut through Goro’s thoughts, and he snapped his head up to see her approaching the two from behind. She seemed relatively unharmed, but a look of worry stained her pale features. “Is he alright?”

“He’s fine. It should heal easily if he leaves it alone.” Goro could hear the pointedness in Akira’s voice when he said that. He didn’t exactly have time to leave it to heal. His top priority was leaving Maruki’s reality as soon as possible. “We should leave the palace for now.” Yoshizawa-San nodded in agreement. Usually Goro would be denying, saying he could keep going, but he could tell his teammates were tired. He grunted in agreement. 

Akira stood up, but before he stood fully he reached his hand out to Goro. He quaintly took his hand, and he pulled him up off the ground. Before Goro could raise any objections. Akira slung Goro’s arm over his shoulder.

“I can walk perfectly fine by myself. I injured my shoulder, not my legs.” Goro snapped quickly, but Akira just shot him a look. He didn’t know why, but that managed to shut him up. 

It had taken little difficulty to leave the palace. Akira was great at navigating his way through the laboratory which, Goro supposed, was the reason why he was so successful with his infiltrations in the past. The train station was less crowded than usual, as it was quite late by the time they had made their way out. Luckily, because of the outfit change between Maruki’s palace and the rest of his distorted universe, his bandages sat securely beneath his warm jacket. He wouldn’t exactly want to head home in a blood stained outfit. 

“This one is mine!” Yoshizawa-san pointed at the train that had just pulled into the station. Akira and him said their last goodbyes before waving her off as she boarded her train. After that, the only ones left were them. Goro scrolled through his phone as he waited for his train to come into the station next. He was almost beginning to grow annoyed at the overwhelming amount of positivity there was on social media. Everyone was too unnaturally happy. It was unnerving. Goro’s train of thought was interrupted when Akira spoke up. 

“You should come over to Leblanc.” Goro paused at that. He glanced up from his phone only to see Akira staring at him expectantly, almost nervously. As if he was desperate for an immediate answer. 

“Why?” Goro quickly questioned. He was confused by the random proposal. 

“Where do you live?” Goro was even more puzzled by that random question.

“Don’t avoid my question with another question, Kurusu.”

“Where do you live?” He insisted. Goro paused for a moment, not exactly wanting to confess to Akira that he lived in a tiny, shady, apartment complex on the bad side of town.

“Not near here.” He said vaguely.

“Then come to Leblanc.” Goro shook his head with disbelief, shoving his phone into his jackets pocket and turning towards the other boy.

“It’s too late for me to have any coffee and I would much rather head home with this injury. You didn’t forget did you?” Goro pointed at the spot where he received the wound earlier to push his point.

“That’s why I’m asking you to come over.” Goro’s face went from confused to straight up annoyed at that, “Leblanc is a lot closer to here than where you live. You probably want to rest as soon as possible don’t you? It would be a lot easier if you came over.” That explanation just didn’t make sense to Goro.

“That’s bullshit. What is your real motive?” He continued to question. Akira just shot him a look, the same one he gave him before. He wasn’t sure how to describe it. It was as if he was pleading ‘Just let me do this’ with his eyes. Goro didn’t understand why the hell it worked so well on him. Goro squeezed his eyes shut and let out an exasperated sigh. “Fine.”

Akira seemed to brighten at his revised answer. Goro was still concerned as to why he insisted he came to Leblanc. He wondered if maybe it was because they hadn’t exactly spent time with each other outside of the palace since Goro had killed him. The memory still sat sourly in the back of his head and he flinched at the thought of it. He doubted that was why. Who the hell would be crazy enough to wish to hang out with someone after they attempted to kill them, not just once, but twice. He supposed Akira was...

They boarded the train together.

The bitter smell of coffee beans filled up Goro’s senses as he stepped into the shop behind Akira. The scent was almost identical to that of the person that lived there, except for the faint smell of dollar store cologne that the boy always had. It was comforting to be surrounded by the aroma again. Leblanc truly was a comfort spot for him, even if his first intentions going there were to spy on his rival. He loved the bitter and yet sweet taste of the coffee that Sojiro or Akira would pour for him. It felt like home, even though he knew that his actual home was nothing like the brew scented shop.

Sojiro didn’t seem to be at the shop at this time, probably leaving sometime before to head home. He was actually a bit relieved at that. He didn’t know how much Sojiro knew about his quarrel with the Phantom Thieves, but he was sure he must know enough to begin to question the two of them at their arrival. Then again, maybe Maruki had erased those memories as well? Though that might have been convenient, it wasn’t the true reality. Goro refused to accept anything that wasn’t the real world. No matter how harsh it may be.

“Your coat?” Akira spoke and pulled Goro from his thoughts. His arm was outstretched to receive Goro’s jacket. It was gentleman like. Goro pulled his jacket off of his shoulders, and he removed his phone from the jacket pocket before handing it over to Akira. Akira took both Goro and his own jacket and hung them up on the coat rack that stood near the entrance of the shop. 

“So what exactly do you want us to do?” Goro’s tone was pointed. He still didn’t understand Akira’s insistence of him coming home with him. He also didn’t understand why, against his better judgement, he agreed.

Akira turned to him and flashed him a smile that seemed a bit too genuine. 

“You hungry?” He questioned. Goro crossed his arms. Akira not telling him exactly what he was thinking was beginning to drive him mad. He’d play along though.

“Maybe. Why?” Akira jammed his thumb behind the counter.

“I can make us some curry.” He offered. Goro wanted badly to deny his offer, just out of spite, but truly he was starving. 

“Fine.” Goro finally gave in. He sat down on the stool in the middle of the counter while Akira headed behind it to prepare their food. He put his apron on before he began making anything. Goro would never admit it, but he quite liked to see Akira wearing his apron. He looked domestic, and really solidified the feeling of home Leblanc had. Goro leaned over the counter, holding his face in his hand as he watched Akira start prepping to make food.

“Any preferences?” Akira called over, sparing a glance over his shoulder at the other.

“Not in particular. Whatever you want will do.” Goro mumbled. He hated how casual Akira was talking to him. As if they were old friends. He hated the way he disregarded everything that happened between them. He should hate him, wish he was dead, anything of that sort. Goro once felt that way for him, so why couldn’t he reciprocate those feelings? Now Goro didn’t know how he felt about Akira. Annoyed, mostly, because of his ignorance, but something else he couldn’t exactly put his finger on. He was comforting and felt like home. It was such an unfamiliar feeling, Goro found it quite scary. Of course, that was something he would never admit. Even to himself. 

Goro watched as Akira made their curry, attempting to seem bored by his actions as he did so, but truly he was quite curious. He wondered what the secret was to making such delicious curry as the kind from Leblanc. He tried to keep watch of each ingredient, but Akira’s body seemed to be in the way of his view of the ingredients. So instead he watched that. He observed the way Akira’s face would relax as he focused on what he was doing. How sweat would accumulate on his forehead as the hot steam from the pot hit his face. It fogged up his glasses, and after a huff of frustration left him, he pulled his glasses off and just set them aside. This allowed Goro to see his features more clearly. He leaned forward a bit to try and inspect him further. Akira reached up and brushed his unruly raven colored bangs out of his eyes as he worked. Goro wishes he could think of a fitting word to describe how Akira looked at the moment, but each of them were too emotionally charged for him to want to use.

Beautiful. Beautiful is what he would call him. But it made him uncomfortable that that was the word that came to mind. 

Goro paused for a moment when he realized that his staring wasn’t as subtle as he thought. Akira’s head tilted towards him and offered him a slight smirk when he noticed him watching. Goro quickly averted his gaze to anything other than Akira. He attempted to look up at the Sayuri painting that always hung in the shop, knowing that was a good way to distract his eyes, but he paused when he realized that the painting was missing. He had almost forgotten that in this new universe, the Sayuri was never gifted to Sojiro. Even more embarrassed by that, Goro instead settled on staring down at the counter below him, deciding that was a safer thing to get lost in thought staring at than anything else.

After a few minutes that felt like years, Akira finally presented him with a plate of fresh steaming curry. The plate brought an aroma of delicious spices and filled up his senses. He would be drooling if he had a fraction less self control. After placing Goro’s plate down, Akira stepped around the counter and took a seat on the stool next to him, and placed his own plate down. 

“Thanks.” Goro looked down at his plate and used all the restraint he had left to keep himself from just gobbling down the entire plate of food right then and there. He began to eat it, like a normal person would, and immediately his tense shoulders loosened up. He had no idea how Akira was able to make food taste so good. The only food Goro could cook was microwavable Cup-O-Ramen and even then he often messed it up. 

“Is it good?” Akira asked, peering over at Goro. Akira still hadn’t touched his food, too concerned with how Goro liked his. 

“Of course. It’s always good.” The compliment was a lot more genuine than the ones Goro would usually give, so Akira’s face lit up with a bright smile. It caused that warm feeling to rise up into his chest once more. He was too hungry and ignorant to acknowledge it though, instead focusing back on his delicious food. Akira had finally started eating his own curry. 

“So...” After a long moment of them silently eating, Akira finally spoke up. “I hope you don’t mind me asking but... what happened in the palace?” Akira’s voice sounded cautious as he spoke, as if he was trying not to spook a scared puppy. Goro looked over at Akira and furrowed his brows.

“What do you mean?” Akira glanced away from Goro’s face, and his eyes seemed to trail over to his shoulder. Goro had almost completely forgotten about that. Mostly because he didn't want to think about it, but also because the ointment Akira had put on it still had it in a numb state. 

"Your little... freak out." Akira explained, his voice soft. Goro's teeth clenched and he glanced away at the reminder of his behavior. He knew why he did it, but God did he wish he didn't. Embarrassing himself in front of Akira by having an overreaction to blood was the last thing Goro wanted to do. 

"It's nothing..." Akira frowned when he said that.

"It didn't look like nothing." Goro pinched the bridge of his nose and let out an exasperated sigh. 

"Do you really want to know that badly?" Goro asked. He didn't know why he was giving him a chance for explanation.

"Yes." Akira didn't even hesitate to answer his question. His gray eyes flickered up to meet deep red. Goro felt he had dug himself a grave that was too deep to crawl out of. Another sigh left his lips, and Groro brought a gloved hand to run over his forehead in a dramatic display or frustration. 

"Fine." He flinched at his own answer. He didn't know what he was doing. He should have just told Akira no and left it at that, but for some reason he couldn't. Akira always found a way to force Goro’s deepest secrets out with a single glance. Their bond was odd like that. 

"I'm afraid of blood." He admitted. His mouth felt dry, but words fell from his mouth before his brain could catch up. 

"You already know of my mother's passing don't you?" Akira nodded, "When I was about seven I came home from school and... well..." he paused for a moment, squeezing his eyes shut at the terrible memory of his mother's dead body in a blood filled bathtub. It was so surprising how vividly he could still remember it even though it was so long ago. "I found her. Dead. Blood was... everywhere... that's when I started to fear it."

Goro felt vulnerable. Something he wasn't exactly keen on feeling. He had laid himself out bare for Akira and was now waiting for some sort of response. He hadn't told anyone about that event. The last time he had mentioned it was when he was sobbing into his sleeves as police questioned him about his mother's suicide. Goro felt sick again. 

"Goro..." Akira used his first name and it caused him to immediately perk up with surprise, "I'm so sorry." His voice was in that gentle tone again. Goro couldn't begin to wrap his head around why he was apologizing to him. Akira's calm gray eyes were filled with a look of sympathy. It was a look Goro rarely got. He wasn't used to someone caring about how he felt or about his past and how fucked up his life is. He couldn't begin to understand why Akira was the one who cared so much. 

"That's what I assumed." Akira pulled Goro from his thoughts after a moment of silence. "The way you reacted to seeing your own blood was so odd... I thought you might have had a fear of it after seeing that. That's why I invited you over." Goro blinked a few times and tried to process what he said.

"You invited me over because I have a fear of blood?" He questioned.

"Yeah." 

"How the hell does that make sense?" Goro sneered.

"You'll need to change your bandages eventually. I thought it would better if I was there to change them for you so then you didn't have to do it yourself and freak out." Akira explained. Goro was taken aback by that answer. He couldn't believe how thoughtful the Phantom Thief leader was being of him. It was almost sickening how caring he was being.

Goro felt a twitching need to yell at Akira. Tell him how goddamn stupid he is for wanting to help him so badly. Remind him that he was a murderer who didn't deserve his sympathy and care. Grab him by the throat and make him fear him so that maybe he would leave him alone to wallow in his shame and self-doubt. But somehow Goro kept those temptations under wrap. Akira had averted his gaze.

"So... if you're afraid of blood... how did you uh-- well... y'know." Akira spoke softly as if it was a sensitive subject.

"How did I kill you?" He supposed he didn't really kill him, but it still felt like he had. Sometimes he still had nightmares that the blood on his hands still wouldn't come off. 

"Yeah." Goro looked down at his plate that had been scraped clean. He took a moment to gather his thoughts before he spoke.

"I don't know. Adrenaline maybe?" His eyes flickered down and instead looked at his gloved hands. If they were bare he would still see stains of crimson on his palms. He squeezed his hands into fists. "In the moment I wasn't really thinking of what I was doing. I was just thinking about what was going to happen after you were dead. I was just blinded by the thought of finally having Shido in my grasp. What I did never struck me until later." He admitted. 

"I see." Akira mumbled. He was now leaning over the counter, his hand holding his pale cheek as he stared over at Goro. He was giving him his full attention, and he wasn't sure what to do with it. Goro was reminded that Akira had yet to put his glasses back on. He had a full view of Akira's features. His pretty pale lips, his messy raven colored hair, and those damn deep gray eyes. Goro wanted to admire them but, with conversation being based around his murder, he couldn't help but feel guilty that he had almost removed such a beautiful face from the earth. 

"I regret it." He let his words slip from his lips without thinking again. "When I came home later that night I felt... awful. I hate myself for what I did." Goro's voice suddenly got very small as he brought back the memories of how he felt that night. The blood that dripped from his fingertips was warm and fresh. "You were the only person I could speak to freely ever since my mother's death... and then I snuffed you out as well." Goro's hands were balled into such tight fists against the counter, that he was sure his gloves might pop a seam. His jaw clenched painfully, and for a moment he wondered if it was too late to run away. Go back home and forget this ever happened. This was not the way Goro planned to spend his night. 

His thoughts were interrupted when a pale hand reached over and grabbed his clenched ones. His breath hitched in his throat as he stared down at his gloved hands that were now covered by Akira’s. He could almost feel the warmth through the leather. For a moment he tensed, but after a few shocked seconds, Goro’s fists slowly eased up until they were open palmed. He could feel his heart pounding in his ears, and yet the action seemed to calm him. The heavy memories of his previous actions left his train of thought in an instant. The only thing he could focus on was Akira, holding his hand and grounding him.

"I don't blame you y'know..." Akira muttered. His thumb ran circles into the back of Goro's hand, and the leather shifted with each movement of his finger. Goro’s eyes finally pulled away from their hands and he looked up at Akira's face. Those calming gray eyes looked into his crimson ones. He could swear he could see some hidden emotion playing behind those steely grays, but he couldn't quite place a finger on it. "I don't hate you for what you did to me. If I was in your position I'm sure I would do the same." Goro scoffed.

"You should hate me." He truly tried to sound as harsh as he could, but in the position he was in it was quite hard. They both had pushed everything a bit too far and now they were in the deep end. They could either drown together, or surface. 

"But I don't." Goro chewed on his bottom lip. He couldn't begin to wrap his head around why Akira didn't. Every bit of common sense would tell someone to get as far away from Goro as fast as possible, but for some reason Akira did the opposite. He ran as fast as he could to Goro until they crashed. The hand on Goro’s shifted, and soon it placed itself onto Goro’s cheek in its stead. Akira's lips parted as if he wanted to say something, and yet no words fell out. Goro could tell that Akira was staring at his lips. His breath hitched in his throat once more. 

"Can I kiss you?" The question was half expected, but Goro was still surprised by it. He had to take a moment to look between Akira’s calming gray eyes, trying to spot any bit of malicious intent or a crack in the surface. He felt that he might have been dreaming at that point. 

"You're an idiot." Goro sneered out his last chance of keeping his walls up, but he already was beginning to lean in towards Akira.

"It was a yes or no question, detective."

"Yes." He let a breathy answer leave his lips without a second thought. He knew if he thought too hard about what to do he would end up with the outcome he didn't desire, so he decided not to. Soon enough Akira was leaning in and in a moment their lips clashed. 

The kiss was soft and brief. A test trial more than anything. But as soon as their lips touched Goro felt a spark run through his body that started at his lips and ran down his spine. The feeling was new, and it was pleasurable. Goro honestly had never kissed anyone before. Or at least not like this. Chaste kisses from crushes in elementary school didn't compare to anything like this. As soon as their lips fell apart, Goro yearned for them to connect again. He had become addicted just from one hit.

Goro leaned back in and connected back in a kiss as soon as he could. This time his hands shot up, one coming to cup the back of his neck and the other resting against his shoulder. But he soon realized that the leather gloves on his hands had nulled the feeling of touching Akira. He couldn't have that. He wanted skin on skin contact. He pulled his hands away, but refused to break the kiss. He began to blindly tug the gloves off of his hands, and soon enough the leather pieces came off and he tossed them nonchalantly onto the counter next to them before returning his hands to their previous position. He could feel the softness of Akira's messy raven hair as his fingers ran through the locks on the back of his head, he could taste leftover curry and coffee on Akira's lips, and he could smell the shitty dollar store cologne he wore much clearer. It was almost overwhelming how much of Akira filled up his senses at that moment. He loved it. 

When they finally pulled apart, both of the boys began to gasp for air that they had forgotten they needed. They refused to pull apart, though. Both of them were almost sliding off of the stools to get as close as they could with one another. Their knees knocked together as they held onto each other as if the other would disappear if they let go. Goro could feel Akira's hot breath against his face, and feel the pounding of his heart through the back of his neck. That was enough to prove to him that this was real. That Akira was alive and he had just kissed him. 

"I didn't actually think you'd say yes." Akira finally broke their silence with a chuckle. Leaning forward and resting his forehead against Goro’s. Goro closed his eyes for a moment and relished in the warmth that came from the contact. He wanted to tell him, _of course I'd say yes,_ but he instead decided to keep quiet. His heart was dictating his actions more than his mind, and he was worried that if he spoke he would say the wrong thing and ruin everything. Instead, Goro moved his hand from the back of Akira's neck to instead brush his unruly black hair away from his eyes. Akira looked up at him, his face now fully in view, and he was beautiful. 

Goro couldn't quite wrap his head around what he was feeling in the moment. His heart was pounding loud in his ears and his face was flushed with an intense heat, but it wasn't a bad feeling. It was quite nice actually. His mind usually was filled with multiple trains of thoughts all zooming past at once, but in the moment the only thing that filled his brain was Akira. It was intoxicating and yet dangerous to feel this way. It was very dangerous.

The moment between them was interrupted when Goro realized that his emotions were now all thrown out onto the table. That he had just given Akira everything without any explanation. He knew soon enough he would be asking about it. Goro wouldn't know how to respond. How was he supposed to tell Akira that he had been pining for him like a middle school girl with a crush without ever realizing it? He had never been exposed to such intimate and affectionate feelings in his life, and he never realized what they were until this exact moment. It was quite frightening. 

"Listen I--" Goro opened his mouth to maybe try to explain himself. He knew all that would fumble out would be embarrassing attempts to explain his complicated feelings, but he wanted so badly for Akira to understand. But Akira cut him off before he could make a fool of himself. 

"You don't have to explain." Akira's voice was firm and comforting, grounding Goro again and making butterflies settle into his stomach. How did he always know just what to say? Just the right words to pull Goro out of whatever emotional mess he had stumbled into? Akira's eye's glanced back over at Goro’s shoulder, and for a moment he could swear he saw a light bulb of an idea flash in the younger boy's eyes. "Let's go change your bandages."

Though the distraction from having to speak about his feelings for Akira was a welcome one, he immediately hesitated. He knew what that meant. That meant he would have to see blood once more. He swallowed thickly and shifted uncomfortably at the thought. Akira already had to deal with his freak out earlier, he felt guilty having him do it again. But, he supposed, Akira was the one who offered to do it. 

Akira grabbed both of their empty curry plates and went behind the counter once more to throw them into the sink. He didn't even bother to wash them. Goro took notice that Akira didn't grab his glasses from the kitchen when he left. It was almost as if he forgot about them completely. Goro hesitantly shifted his way off of his stool and stood awkwardly. He looked over at the counter and saw his custom fitted gloves he had thrown off in the heat of the moment. He grabbed them, but stuffed them into his pockets instead of putting them back on. He wanted to be prepared if he got the opportunity to touch Akira again. 

Akira waved for Goro to follow him, and they both entered the bathroom of Leblanc that was situated beneath the stairwell that led to the attic. The bathroom was quite small for a business. It only held one sink and toilet, and it barely fit two people inside. The size of it made Goro ponder if the original building where Leblanc now stood was intended for a more domestic setting. He wondered if that was why Leblanc always felt so cozy. The walls were a plain dusty blue color and the floor was made up of white tiles. Everything inside was in pristine quality, as if it was cleaned regularly. He supposed it was a bathroom for a business establishment, so it made sense. 

Akira gently grabbed onto Goro’s arm and tugged him to where he wanted him to be. Because of the small amount of room they had to move, Akira and him had to shift uncomfortably around each other to move. Akira sat him down on the lid of the toilet seat and, though it was an uncomfortable place to sit, Goro didn't exactly have anywhere else he could go in the tiny area. Once he had sat down Akira turned away to step towards the small medical cabinet that hung on the back wall of the bathroom. Akira began to rummage through the medicinal supplies.

"It would be much easier if you took your shirts off for me." Akira finally spoke, offering a side glance to Goro. At first glance he didn't seem to be too embarrassed at the request he just gave, but when he turned to focus his attention back onto the supplies he was grabbing, Goro noticed a flush dusted his cheeks. Goro would be lying if he said he wasn't at least a bit flushed at this point as well. He was just lip-locking with his rival, and now he was asking for him to take off his clothes. He knew that the request was solely so he can help with his bandages, but out of context it could be easily misconstrued. 

Goro listened to his instructions and began to pull his sweater vest up and over his head. The movement caused the cloth to rub against his bandages and he let out a pained hiss when they chaffed together. Eventually he managed to get the garment over his head. He folded it up and put it on his lap before he began to unbutton his dress shirt. He glanced up mid-unbuttoning to see that Akira had gotten his supplies from the cabinet and was now politely averting his eyes from Goro as he undressed himself. It was almost cute how hard he seemed to be trying to keep his eyes a respectable distance away from him. 

Eventually Goro had his undershirt unbuttoned and he quickly pulled it off and folded it up to join his sweater vest on his lap. Now without clothing to cover it, it was clear to see that Goro had now bled through his bandages. Not enough to touch his clothes, but enough to see red blotches seeping through the gauze. That familiar sick feeling settled in Goro’s stomach as he caught a glance at it. That gel Akira put on it must have really numbed it, because he hadn't even noticed the leakage until he caught a glimpse of it. 

Akira's eyes averted back to the other boy when he realized that he was done undressing, and a frown came to his lips when he, too, caught sight of the blood. It only took Akira one step forward for him to be close to Goro, both because of the size of the room and because of the giraffe-like length of his legs. He put himself between Goro’s legs and then kneeled down so that he would be able to have better access to the wound. The distance between them was minimal at this point, and goro felt a flush of heat cover his face when he realized that he could see every detail of Akira's face once more. Though it was embarrassing, it was quite a good distraction from his bloody shoulder.

Akira set down his supplies, another roll of clean gauze bandages and that same mysterious gel from before, and then looked back up at Goro. With gentle hands he reached up and began to carefully remove the bandages that were wrapped around his shoulder. It took everything in Goro to keep his eyes averted from his gash as he unwrapped it, but curiosity got the better of him. He shot a glance over and immediately regretted it. He caught sight of his old, crimson colored, blood sticking onto the back part of the bandages as Akira pulled it away from his skin. A shutter shot through his body as he forced himself to not gag at the sight. 

"Don't look at it." Akira's voice cut through his disgust, and he looked back over at his face. His calm gray eyes were entrancing, and the gentleness in his voice was relaxing. 

"It's kind of difficult to do that." Goro bit back. He really had nowhere else to look at. It was either he stared at Akira, or at his injury, and both of those options were terrifying. Akira glanced away momentarily as he thought of a solution for Goro, before he looked back over and offered a gentle smile.

"Then look at me." Goro was taken aback by his bold request. He didn't even explain further before he went back to removing the last of the gauze from Goro’s shoulder. Goro clenched his jaw with annoyance at this, but he did what he was told. His eyes stayed on Akira and tried to not stray away from him. But staring at him made him realize how close they really were. He was merely inches away. Goro was sure that if he were to lean down just a few inches, their lips would be touching once more. Goro almost felt tempted to try it. But, he had more self control than that. 

He thought about it though. He thought about how Akira's lips felt on his moments ago. It was another good distraction for him as Akira took his time cleaning up the wound. His lips were much softer than he had anticipated them to be, but he supposed a lot of things about Akira were different than he expected. He definitely didn't expect him to ask him for a kiss earlier. Even now he was still having a hard time processing that that had actually happened. But now he wanted so badly for it to happen again. Now that he knew that he was allowed to, it was all he wanted to do to Akira. But there was still some hesitance there. He couldn’t help but feel like Akira was making a grave misjudgement. He just couldn’t understand why Akira would want anything to do with him. If he was in Akira’s shoes, he would have wanted to get back at his killer as best as he could. Not fraternize with them. 

"You okay?" Akira spoke and pulled him from his thoughts once more. 

"What?"

"Are you okay? You had a pretty intense look on your face." Akira explained, his eyes leaving Goro’s shoulder to look into his crimson eyes, "It doesn't hurt does it?" 

Goro had to pause as he took in the look of worry that was on Akira’s face. If he was completely honest, he couldn’t feel anything. Probably because Akira had placed that mysterious gel on his arm once again and had thoroughly numbed it.

“I can’t feel it.” He admitted. Akira gave a relieved smile. 

“I told you this gel was safe. It works wonders.” He chuckled before looking back at what he was doing. By the feel of it, he seemed to have started wrapping his shoulder back up. Goro forced himself to not look.

“Can I ask you a question?” Goro clenched his jaw tightly after realizing that he let those words sneak out. Akira looked back over at him and offered another smile that was too kind for Goro to process. 

"Of course." He answered. Goro really wished he had denied him. Told him to fuck off. Maybe then he would shut up. But Akira always kept pushing, and Goro always kept talking.

"I--" he paused. He knew what he wanted to say, but it was difficult to force out. His eyes averted from Akira's, and he felt the full heat of Akira's gaze boring into him on his cheeks. Akira's face went from curious to concerned at this. It was almost sickening how much Akira cared about Goro and what he had to say. "What happened earlier... was that real?" He finally forced out.

"What do you mean by was it real?" Goro wished he could just understand everything he was feeling with just one glance so that he wouldn't have to explain his emotions all the time. 

"Did you mean it?" If Goro clenched his jaw any tighter, he was sure he might break it entirely. Akira looked up at him with an almost blank stare before he offered him a smile. This smile was different than his usual ones. Usually his smiles were cocky and arrogant, but this one was shy and reserved.

"I mean... yeah." Akira's eye's averted from his and Goro could see the beginnings of a pink tint on the other boy's cheeks. "Of course I meant it. I wouldn't do it if I didn't." Goro's heart skipped a beat, and he hated it. He hated the warm feeling that filled his chest at Akira's admission. He hated how his cheeks burned. He hated how he believed him so easily and desperately. He wondered if he was being naive. Perhaps this was all a trap the Phantom Thief leader had articulated. A heartbreak as payback for his crimes.

“You shouldn’t...” Goro turned his head away from Akira and stared off to the side and at the gray-blue bathroom wall.

“Akechi--”

“Don’t you “Akechi” me!” He snapped his head back to face Akira, and when he did he instantly regretted it. Akira had that familiar look of worry painted onto his features, and it hurt. It hurt so bad to know that he cared so much. He shouldn’t. “Akira... this isn’t...” Goro couldn’t gather his thoughts fast enough for him to speak them. “How idiotic can you possibly be? You remember what I did to you, don’t you?!” 

“Goro...” He paused at the use of his first name, but he just shook his head. Goro remembered what he did. He remembered it vividly every time he closed his eyes to sleep at night. Blood, dripping down Akira’s forehead and down to his lips. The same lips he had just kissed. He didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve any of his care, any of his help. 

“I hurt you, Akira. I don’t understand why you keep pushing for something that isn’t there!” Goro hissed out the words as if they were hard to say, but he kept going, “I am not your friend! I am not your lover! I am your rival! Your enemy! Your--” Goro couldn’t finish what he was saying, his voice cracking as burning hot tears filled his eyes. He cursed under his breath. "Your murderer..." He said the last part in a whisper, his eyes squeezing shut to keep his tears from falling. Maybe he could keep one scrap of dignity in this whole situation. "I have your blood on my hands, and there is nothing I can do to change that!!"

"Goro!" Akira's voice raised, and he finally caught his attention when he did. He forced his eyes open and looked back up at Akira. He did the unexpected, and leaned forward, wrapping his arms tightly around Goro’s waist and holding him firm in a hug. His first instinct was to get him off. He writhed in his touch, his hands gripping onto Akira's shoulders and pushing back on him as hard as he could. With his injured shoulder, his efforts were wasted.

"Akira! Stop!" His voice raised, and cracked once more. At this point he couldn't hold back the tears anymore. They began to flood from his eyes and down his flushed cheeks. Goro continued his fight against Akira, squirming around and crying like a toddler throwing a tantrum. Slowly, though, he calmed down after realizing that his struggles were useless. Eventually he stopped trying to pull away from Akira, and instead freely cried into his shoulder. He could still smell coffee and the stray smell of curry spices on his turtleneck. It smelled so much like him. It was comforting, but made him more upset at the same time. "I hurt you Akira-- I hurt you..." He choked out, his hand balling into a fist and knocking against Akira's shoulder to punctuate his words. 

"I know. It's okay." Akira's voice was so calm when he spoke to him. He just couldn't understand why. "I've got you Goro, I've got you." 

They sat there for what felt like forever. Akira held on tight to Goro, whispering gentle encouragements into his ear, rocking him back and forth soothingly, while Goro cried into his shoulder like some child. Goro couldn't remember a time where he had let himself get so emotional around someone. The last time he remembered crying in public was after his mother died. Ever since then he had been very particular about the way people viewed him. Crying and showing vulnerability was not on that agenda.

"I'll hurt you again..." Goro whimpered. It wasn't a threat, but instead a warning. If Goro had done it once, what would stop him from doing it once more? He couldn't even trust himself with the responsibility of keeping Akira safe. 

"That's okay." Akira's words enraged him. How could he just simply accept such a thing? Does he have any ounce of self-preservation?

"You are an utter fool." Goro's words felt dry in his throat and his voice cracked as he spoke. He just buried his nose deeper into the cloth of Akira's turtleneck. As much as his words denied Akira, his actions contradicted them. He wanted to get Akira a safe distance from him, but at the same time wanted to clutch him close and never let him go. 

"I know." They sat there in silence for a few moments, the only noise filling the air was Goro weakly sniffling into Akira's shoulder. 

"Why?" Goro broke the silence with a croak.

"Why what?"

"Why do you care for me so much?" Akira seemed to pause at that. He sucked a deep breath in and pulled back until he was face to face with Goro. Goro felt the sudden need to hide his face. The afterglow of crying was clear on his features. His eyes were puffy, his cheeks and nose were a rose red, and streaks of old tears still stained his face. Akira's hand left Goro’s waist to instead grab a lock of his light brown hair and tuck it behind his ear. He almost melted Akira's soft touch.

"Because..." Akira paused for a moment and sucked in a deep breath, he looked as if he was thinking of the right thing to say, "Because you mean something to me Goro..."

"Akira..." Goro's breath hitched and his heart lurched at such a confession.

"You deserve the world... and the world hasn't been kind to you." Akira's hand cupped Goro’s cheek, "I want to make up for that." 

Goro squeezed his eyes shut. Every word that left Akira's lips caused his heart to beat faster and his guilt to grow larger and larger. He couldn't believe that. He couldn't believe he deserved anything more than a hole in the ground for everything he had done. He didn't deserve Akira or his affections or this feeling they seemed to share. But he got it anyways. He just couldn't begin to understand why. 

"Akira, I deserve _nothing_." Goro insisted, but Akira quickly shut him up when he shifted his thumb to brush over his lips. Goro shivered into the touch. He hated how he succumbed so easily to him. 

"Let me kiss you again."

"Akira--"

"Please?" Goro looked over and into innocently pleading puppy eyes. That look alone would be able to convince anyone to do anything. Goro clenched his jaw and let out a quiet groan of frustration that was more for himself than anyone else. He hated Akira and his tempting charms. Though he must admit that the idea of having Akira's lips on his again was also alluring, although embarrassing. He finally gave in.

"Fine..." he muttered quickly, quick enough for it to have been easily missed if Akira wasn't listening carefully. Luckily, he was, so as soon as those words left him a smirk painted his features. Goro almost wanted to punch him in the face. But soon their lips connected and all urges to hurt the other boy quickly melted into the slow syncing of their lips. He couldn't help it. Kissing Akira was like kissing rays of sunlight. So warm and gentle and calming. He just wanted to bask in it forever.

Goro’s hand found its way to the back of Akira's neck once again, and he was relieved that earlier he had decided to leave his gloves in his pocket. He loved the feeling of Akira. His pale skin burning hot from the heat of the moment, and the hair at the nape of his neck was soft and long enough for Goro to gently tangle his fingers in it. It all felt so completely... Akira. 

Eventually they parted. Goro decided that, instead of continuing to argue with the other, he would rather stay in this moment. He let himself be seduced by Akira’s loving touch and affectionate words. He just wanted to bask in the homey warmth that he felt around the other. Akira looked over at him and offered that gentle smile that would make anyone's heart melt. His eyes trailed down to Goro’s lips, and it was clear he wanted to kiss him again, but he made no move to do so. He respected Goro’s boundaries, and he knew not to push them more than necessary. Especially since he already had. 

"Let me finish patching you up now. Your bandages are falling off..." Akira pointed out, causing Goro to turn his head to look at his shoulder. He was right, the gauze was wrapped tightly on certain parts, but the other half had been tousled and unwrapped; probably because of Goro's breakdown. Goro caught sight of the gash that was past the unwrapped bandages. It was a sickly deep red and it was beginning to heal over with a scab. In any other situation he would have felt sickly staring into his own blood, but for the first time in a long time... he actually felt fine. He was shocked by such a revelation. Akira grabbed onto the bandages quickly and began to wrap them back up tightly around the affected area. He didn't want Goro to have to stare at it for more than he needed to. 

"After I finish this I can give you some of my spare clothes for you to sleep in." Goro's head shot up at that.

"For me to sleep in?" Goro questioned quickly.

"Oh. Well it's pretty late, and the last train probably left a while ago, so I thought you could stay the night." The fact that he still needed the train to go home had completely slipped his mind. You never realize how much you rely on something until it's gone. He was just kissing Akira, and then he was crying on him, and then he was kissing him again, and now he had to sleep in his abode. This probably is the most embarrassing day of his life. He was just relieved that Akira was the only one to see him in such a state. He trusted him more than he trusted anybody else if he's perfectly honest. That was why he blabbered on about personal things around him so often and why he could let himself be vulnerable around him... it was probably also partly why he was so attracted to him. Knowing that all of these embarrassing moments were safe with Akira allowed him a bit of relief. 

"Alright then..."

Goro laid in Akira’s bed and stared up blankly at the rafters that structured the ceiling of Leblanc. His thoughts were occupied with wondering how many nights Akira laid in the same spot he now was, staring up at the same spot, just thinking. Just knowing he was in the same room as Akira was enough to cause Goro’s heartbeat to speed up, but now he was in his clothes, in his room, in his bed. It was all so intoxicatingly domestic. 

Goro felt something he hadn't felt in a long time. He felt like he was safe. The warmth of Akira's blankets draped over him and the strong smell of coffee and curry were the main causes of that, but also the intimacy he now knew he shared with Akira was a big factor. He felt cared for, loved even. That was something he hadn't felt since before his mom had died and even then, as much as his mother tried, the feeling was scarce. He tugged the soft blanket that was draped over his body closer and curled it around himself, burying his face in the gentle cloth. It warmed his nose and smelled like that distinct Akira scent. 

Since it was still deep into winter, the cold crept into the attic easily. Without the heater that sat in the far corner of the room, Goro was sure he would freeze to death. The blankets Akira supplied him also helped.

"I'll take the couch so that you don't have to be squished into a bed with me." Akira said as he walked up the steps into the attic.

He had changed out of his every day wear and was now wearing a casual night shirt and sweatpants. Even though the clothes were much more simple than anything he would usually wear, Goro still found he looked quite nice in them. But Akira always looked handsome. 

Goro nodded at that. He wasn't going to argue with him. Though he wouldn't be completely opposed to sleeping in the same bed as Akira, he had already suffered enough embarrassment from

indulging in his feelings and at this point he was fine with a little space.

Akira turned off the main light in the attic, causing a deep blue darkness to fall over the room. The only thing that lit up the space was the moon shining through the window by the bed, and it allowed Goro to still see Akira even in the dark. Akira stepped over to the couch and laid down, resting his head on the stray pillow that was on the furniture and making himself comfortable. Once he did he turned himself to face Goro and offered him a smile. 

"Goodnight." He said in a sickeningly sweet voice that made Goro melt into a puddle where he laid. He could get used to hearing Akira say goodnight to him. But Goro paused when he noticed something was off. It was hard to see in the dark, but after narrowing his eyes he realized that Akira was shivering. His body shook slightly and his arms were crossed tightly over his chest as if he was freezing. That was when he noticed that Akira didn't have a blanket.

"You're shivering." Goro pointed out.

"I'm fine."

"Do you have a blanket?" Akira sighed heavily like he had been caught doing something wrong. He ran a hand through his hair and brushed the raven locks back.

"No. You have all the blankets." 

"Then take one of mine Akira, I'm not going to let you shiver in the cold all night." Goro sat up in the bed.

"But then you'll be cold," Akira pouted, "I'll be fine-"

"Then join me." Goro couldn't believe he actually offered such a thing. As soon as he did his heart began to pound in his chest. He wanted him to accept, but at the same time it was embarrassing. 

"What?" Goro turned his face away to hide the flush on his cheeks, as if Akira could see it in the dark.

"If you won't let me give you a blanket, then get in next to me so you won't be cold." He forced out. Akira was silent for a long pause. Goro hated every second of it. 

"Are you sure you're okay with that?" Akira asked with a gentle tone.

"Yes. Get in here." Goro just decided to roll with it. It was too late to be embarrassed at this point. All he cared about was letting Akira be as comfortable as he was. He shifted over to the other side of the bed and opened up the blankets for Akira to get inside. Akira stood, but he clearly hesitated for a moment. Eventually he found his way into the sheets next to Goro. He seemed to sigh with relief when he entered the warm sheets. 

There wasn't much room on the bed, and a small distance was left between the two when Akira turned towards Goro. He stared up at him for a moment, just looking a little awestruck looking. Goro's cheeks burned red as he tried to imagine what things Akira might be thinking at that moment. 

"You look so pretty." He finally broke the silence, and Goro scoffed.

"It's dark, you can barely see me." He tried to make any excuse to maybe make the heat in his cheeks cool down.

"I can see enough." He countered smoothly. Goro just shook his head quickly and pulled himself under the sheets a bit more.

Having Akira so close to him caused temptations to run through his head. He wanted so badly to run his hand through his hair and kiss him, hold him tightly in his arms and just bask in his presence. The ideas felt so alluring to Goro’s tired mind. He could just reach out a little bit and-- 

"Can I touch you?" Akira's voice broke his train of thought. He didn't realize that they both might have had the same idea at the same time. 

"Yes." He breathlessly responded. 

Akira hesitantly reached forwards and gently touched his hand at Goro’s cheek, while the other went to rest on his waist. Goro could feel the cold of Akira's hand against the heat of his cheeks. It caused a shiver to run down his spine, but the feeling was nice. Goro squeezed his eyes shut and basked in the feeling.

"You really are so pretty, Goro." He hummed as he brushed his thumb over his cheekbones. Goro opened his eyes just so he could roll them at Akira.

"Shut up."

"No really, I'm serious--" Akira insisted, but Goro clasped his hand over his mouth before he could continue.

"Do you ever listen?" Goro's tone sounded pointed, but there truly was no bite to his words. He pulled his hand away and felt a ping of annoyance when he saw Akira was just grinning up at him like the fool he was.

"Nope." 

"Obviously..." Akira hadn't listened to him all night. Always insisting his way. Goro allowed him to though, so he supposed it was partly his fault. Truthfully, he enjoyed Akira's disobedience. If he always let Goro have his way all the time, he's sure he wouldn't be where he was now. Laying in bed next to him, being held by him... 

Goro wanted to have his way for the first time that night. He wanted to act without consequence or regret. He wanted to be able to do what he wanted with Akira without feeling guilt or shame. So, he acted upon the urge. Goro reached forwards and grabbed at Akira's chin. He tilted his head up and stared into those brilliant gray eyes, untainted by the dark of the room. This time he initiated the kiss, leaning in until their lips locked. He let himself just fall into the affection without overthinking it or guilting himself for it. He just let himself be in the moment.

When he pulled away and opened his eyes, he saw that the other boy was giving him an absolutely awestruck look. It amazed Goro that they had already kissed three times and yet each new one was more exhilarating than the last. At this point he felt like he could kiss Akira forever and he would never get rid of the butterflies in his stomach or the heat on his cheeks. He didn't mind it as much as he thought he would. In fact he actually quite liked it. 

"Wow, who could have guessed?" Akira spoke with his signature Joker-like smirk. Goro furrowed his brows in confusion. "Goro Akechi... a total softie." 

Goro pulled back a bit with a flushed expression. Being labeled a "softie" was definitely not what he would expect, especially from Akira. 

"I am not a _softie_." Goro argued back, drawing out the pronunciation of the name to make a point. 

"Yes you are, you can't deny me." Akira argued back playfully. His arms wrapped around Goro’s waist and he held him close to his chest. Goro could feel Akira's hot breath on his face and feel the rise and fall of Akira's chest under his. The feeling of being this close to someone else was new to him, but it felt good. It felt good to be held in someone else's arms and to be cared for. He melted into the touch and wrapped his arms around Akira's neck. "See?" 

"Shut up..." Goro buried his face into Akira's collarbone, hiding his flushed face. He knew Akira had a point. He was being awfully soft, but who could blame him? Akira let out a laugh and pressed a kiss to Goro’s forehead, but he did shut up after that. The two of them just laid there for a moment, enjoying the other's company. Loving each other's touch. Goro felt so secure in Akira's arms. As if all the doubts he had ever held in his mind had been thrown away. 

"Goodnight." Akira repeated from earlier, his hand gently caressing the long light brown locks that fell on the nape of Goro's neck. Goro shifted a bit in his position, moving until his head was resting against the other boy's chest. He hooked his arms underneath Akira's and let out a content sigh as he found comfort in the position. 

"Goodnight." He replied. Even if he tried he wasn't sure if he'd be able to actually fall asleep like this. As comfortable as he was, so many thoughts ran through his head and they were all about Akira. He would be fine if he didn't even get a minute of sleep, though. The longer he was awake, the longer he could enjoy the other's company.

It wasn't long before Akira's breathing and heartbeat had slowed. Beneath him Goro could hear the steady beat of his heart as he slowly drifted into sleep. The rhythm that was set was soothing, and reassuring to Goro. It was a steady reminder that Akira was still there with him. That he was still alive. That, even if he was plagued with nightmares of Akira dying over and over again, he would still be there. And that was enough for him.


End file.
